Chapter 14
“Or,” Ethan hastened to correct himself as silence descended on the table, “how we’re going to make it look like that’s happened.”
Julia kept her smile intact, but she had to resist the urge to shake her head at him for making things so weird. In the past, she never would have hesitated to tell him when he’d fucked up, but she no longer had those privileges, nor would she have the desire to exercise them if she did.
“I think we can be pretty convincing.” Noah shot Katy a sidelong smile, cutting the awkwardness with good humor and a little nudge. “What do you say, Kit?”
The nickname made Julia’s body grow cold. Another little hit, so reminiscent of her and Ethan and the way they used to be. The way he’d tried to be with her again, but she’d refused to allow.
She knew that if she looked at Ethan in that moment, her expression would give something away, so instead she turned to Katy with a large smile.
“Let’s plan the next couple of days, shall we?”
“Yes, great—” In that moment, there was a loud clatter at the front door and the sound of something bringing forth a bluster of noise and chaos.
Julia stood up quickly, forgetting her booted ankle for a moment and almost losing her balance.
A steadying hand on her elbow was there and gone quicker than she could register it, and when she turned to look back at Ethan, he stood there innocently enough, looking toward the door as if he, too, were simply curious about the commotion.
Julia ventured out a bit farther, limping out to the main hall to see what the cacophony was about.
What greeted her upon turning the corner was the sight of Maggie, disheveled, her jacket off one shoulder and missing a boot, which looked like it had come off somewhere closer to the front door.
And she had a chicken under her right arm.
Julia had to do a double blink to make sure she had seen that correctly, but the indignant squawk was a dead giveaway.
Yes. A chicken.
“Maggie…” Julia began slowly, eyeing the foul fowl up and down. “What in god’s name—”
“I got him for us for dinner tomorrow!” Maggie cried, holding the protesting chicken high up in the air in some semblance of triumph—until it promptly turned around and pecked at her sharply, causing her to cry out in pain before dropping the beleaguered poultry to the ground, where it immediately took off.
“Oh shit!” The words came from Ethan, a tinge of laughter in his tone, his expression looking a little too amused for Julia’s liking when she whirled around and saw him, Katy, and Noah standing in the doorway.
The actors looked more bewildered than amused, and Julia suppressed the urge to groan loudly as her mind ran through all the possible criticisms these two celebrities could potentially lob at her small bed-and-breakfast, which would almost certainly cause her to go under.
Really, all it would take would be one OSHA mishap to completely sink her at this point.
Something in her face must have registered to Ethan, because all amusement vanished from his expression, and Julia recognized the minute he went into support mode, his shoulders straightening as he strode toward Maggie.
“Jacket,” he said, his voice full of command, index finger pointing toward her for good measure. In the most seamless motion that Julia had ever seen from Maggie, the jacket was off and tossed at Ethan before she could even blink.
Ethan snatched it out of midair and turned toward the bird currently wreaking havoc in her main hallway. He approached it slowly, holding the jacket out like a matador with his red cape. The chicken eyed him warily, as everyone watched with bated breath.
The stare-down must have lasted mere seconds, but to Julia it felt like hours. A veritable game of chicken, she thought before cringing even at herself.
Then everything happened at once. Ethan threw the coat over the bird, which let out a screech of protest and struggled to free itself.
But Ethan was faster, lunging for the jacket and the flailing bird buried beneath it, then snatching it up, keeping the sharp, pecking beak at bay under the nylon fabric.
He turned to the group then, his face echoing the triumph of Maggie’s earlier expression when she had first brought the chicken home.
Noah and Katy clapped, more politely than enthusiastically, while Maggie made up the enthusiasm for all of them with her rapid clapping and cheers.
“Greatest thing I’ve ever seen,” she marveled, holding out her arms as she approached Ethan to take the jacket from him. “Sneaky little bugger. You’ll be perfect for tomorrow’s supper. Roasted chicken anyone?”
The only sound came from the guest of honor itself, squawking pitifully beneath the jacket.
Julia wanted to kill Maggie and roast her for supper.
While she was aware that the poultry-based meals they ate at Donwell typically came from Maggie’s parents’ house and the chicken coop they’d installed after buying the place off Julia’s father, she had never actually seen one of the damn things in her presence, alive, before she’d eaten it.
And she’d certainly never had time to think about it before it had been killed.
Now, on the day when they had their newest guests, who happened to be multimillion-dollar-net-worth celebrities as well, this was the day she had chosen to bring wildlife into Julia’s home and talk about the circle of life?
“I don’t think—” Julia began, still trying to break the news to Maggie gently, because, damn her, she did try, but Katy interrupted.
“Um.” Everyone looked over at her as her voice broke through, intercepting even Julia’s strident dismissal of Maggie’s idea. “I guess this is a bad time to tell you that I’m a vegetarian?”
* * *
In due time, the chicken was returned to Maggie’s family, and plans were finally made for the day and beyond.
Today, they were going into Highbury Hollow to walk around the quaint Main Street area and go around some shops.
The plan, as Ethan had explained it, was to curate an experience that would allow for a few snapshots—taken by him, of course—which would eventually land on social media to spark curiosity.
Lay out some breadcrumbs, as it were. Nothing that would give away their location or hint at romance—yet.
Just the groundwork for what he was building.
She knew that his hope was that once the photos were out there, people would be left wondering, speculating, wanting more—and he intended to provide it in measured steps.
The beauty of social media, he explained with an enthusiasm akin to any expert delighting in their field, was that things rarely happened in real time, with the intended audience none the wiser.
For Julia’s part, the number of details to play into this deception was enough to make her head spin.
So rather than think about it, she chose instead to remove herself from all of it and wait for the others to be ready.
In that moment—or really, any moment when a breather was required—she could be found in one of the Adirondack chairs on the back porch, overlooking the water and enjoying a coffee—her third one of the morning—the fuel on which her days relied.
Noah and Katy had already been set up in their respective rooms, with a key each and some general housekeeping information about towels, room cleaning, and her newly minted turndown service (all of which were provided by Maggie, though she was conveniently referred to by Julia as her “team”).
Julia was heartened by their appreciation and sincerity, both seeming to be happy with their rooms and positively enamored with the themes—Katy had gushed over all the water elements of Noah’s Lakeside Room, particularly the swan lamps, to the point that Noah had asked her if she’d wanted to switch.
But no, Victorian Elegance, with its four-poster bed, voluminous drapery, lushly upholstered furniture, and fine carpets, appeared to hold its own appeal to her.
It was nice to have her hard work recognized. Julia had put her heart and soul—and the remainder of her wallet—into the integrity of those rooms, sourcing antique furniture and knickknacks that would suit, choosing the little soaps in the washrooms and the chocolates on the pillows.
The air turned biting, her fingers flexing on her coffee mug as she thought further on that empty wallet.
She had been lucky in the early days, with the ability to purchase the cottage and the funds to turn it into what she had dreamed of.
Ethan’s parents had helped, of course, by not fleecing her on the sale.
And then there was the matter of the inheritance, which she knew she should be grateful for despite the means by which she had received it.
She tried not to think about it too much, but it was what had gotten her to where she was today, and there was an appreciation for that, at least.
Her thoughts drifted to her grandfather, who had tried calling again that morning.
She knew it wasn’t anything urgent—it never was—but thinking of him and of how she kept letting his calls go unanswered tangled uncomfortably with those thoughts of her inheritance.
He wouldn’t want her to feel guilty—she knew that. Still, it was hard not to.
Either way, the money well had since run dry. It was all on her now. So this had to work. For the sake of everything she’d built and the costs that had come with it—not just financial—it had to.